When you’re a pest, you’re a pest every day,
an accursèd house guest leching to get a lay
from hostess, Bess, fetching on the divan.
Big brother’s Jeff’s in residence; so’s her spouse, Dan.

You stay at their home; each closet you’ve inspected.
You probed a lawn gnome, but Rover has rejected
getting connected.

I can attest, with a capital “A,”
that the cops should arrest you and cart you away,
’cause you’re a pest, a baleful pest!

’cause you’re a pest, you prompt many a frown;
you’ve a grotesque swelled id. . .not from heaven sent down.
’cause you’re a pest, you are swingin’ your thing.
Diddle joy then upstands,
diddled gland with hand-cling.

----------------------------------------------------

A pest will appear at dinner for fried chicken;
he’ll scarf down your beer. . .
YOUR fingers he’ll be lickin’—
and YOUR nose pickin’.

Here comes that pest; like a rat he can smell
what you’re cooking today, and he’s looking like hell.
Here comes the pest—little girls, step aside,
or he’ll ogle your mounds, try to hump you besides.

Comportment ain’t fine; advances are unbidden.
He won’t toe the line; manners formed in a midden.
Ain’t read the Gideon.

Steer clear of pests, in your home, on the streets;
avoid their thuggish hands and their gross ugly tweets.
Also don’t ever let one with mom meet.